Paint My World
by FairDrea
Summary: She was getting older every day, but he couldn't find it in him to let her forget, even if it meant starting up a game that would tip the balance entirely.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I've fallen in love with this movie. In LOVE. As in, watching it after my kiddos are in bed because I just adore the characters that much. As usual, it was only a matter of time before the plot bunnies started. So here's one! My first foray into this fandom. I hope everyone enjoys and I promise you this isn't a one chapter deal. It should be three chapters and tie in with another Jack Frost centered fic I'm going to start working on.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rise of the Guardians and make no profit from writing this fic.

**Paint My World**

**Chapter One - Game On**

She had almost stopped believing in him.

Once – and only once.

That was as much as he would allow it to happen. Fifteen years old - she was just starting to find her way amongst her peers… in over her head with home work, volley ball practice, art club and attempts at dating. And fifteen…

It had been a wonder that she'd remained firm in her belief for _that_ long. As a general rule, once children started creeping up on those teenage years, they just stopped believing. And it was acceptable. It was understood that being an adult meant losing that sense of wonder, that sense of hope and awe.

And she almost had.

But he couldn't let her.

With the sun creeping over the horizon and chasing away the night, he swung by her house, crept into her room, and made sure that she would always know that he existed. Then, he slipped outside the window where branches of an overhanging tree hid him shadows, waiting for her.

The pale yellow and blue blankets on the twin bed shifted and stilled, then shifted again. They were abruptly thrown back and the girl underneath stretched, shoving her blond hair out of her face. She turned her head, looking at the bedside clock through narrowed eyes. And then those green eyes went impossibly wide. Slowly, she pushed herself up until she was sitting, the blankets a mass of fluff around her.

One hand reached out, the tips of her fingers brushing over the intricately painted Easter Egg – brilliant colors of red, gold, pink, green and purple wrapped in a fringe of silver vines. He watched those eyes fill with the wonder that had been slowly ebbing over time. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as her fingers closed around the egg.

As her grip tightened ever so slightly, so did the faith in his existence. He could feel it – like coming home. It settled warm and content in his heart as he leaned back and grinned, a satisfied sigh leaving him in a rush.

A moment later, the grin vanished as he watched her set the egg aside, leap out of bed and dash out of the room.

"What the-."

He started to doubt his intent, started to wonder if his refusal to allow her to forget was a good thing. Guardian's were not supposed to interfere with the natural growth of maturity, even if it _did_ mean that all of the things that made a person's childhood amazing and beautiful slowly stopped existing.

He edged toward the window, contemplating how quickly he could get in, snatch the evidence of his transgression and get out. And then she was back, running to the large vanity across from her bed, yanking open drawers and rummaging through them. Carefully, he moved back into the shadows, just out of view.

A few minute more of wild searching, of cursing in a way he had no idea she was capable of, and she apparently found what she had been looking for. She returned to the bed, crossed her legs and made herself comfortable.

It was then that he saw it – the simple white egg clutched in her hand. In the other was a collection of brushes and small tubes of what he could only assume were oil paints. She tossed them over the bed spread, carefully selected her first color and brush and set to work.

He lost track of time as he watched her – watched the way she nibbled on her lower lip, the way her brows drew so close in a frown of concentration. It could have been late morning by the time she straightened, rolled her shoulders and smiled down at her accomplishment. He could have cared less.

She placed the painted egg in the same place he'd left his. Then, picking up his gift, she hugged it close to her, rolled out of bed and skipped back through the doorway, closing it behind her. He waited for her to come back, the minute ticking slowly by but the door remained shut.

_Even if she did come back, it's not like I wouldn't hear her and be able to make a quick get away-.  
_

Realization of just how idiotic that that thought was hit immediately. She knew who he was. She had seen him countless times over the course of her childhood. She had curled up in his arms and trustingly fallen asleep on him in that instantaneous way that only children seemed capable of. What did it matter if she saw him now?

But still…there was that thrill of secrecy that he couldn't quite ignore.

He slipped through the window, his narrowed eyes fixed on the door, his large ears catching everything from the tick of the clock on the nightstand to the muffled lull of voices downstairs.

Only when he had the egg she'd painted resting in his paw did he look away.

She'd covered half of it in teal and violet paisley swirls spotted with tiny golden hearts. In the middle of the riot of colors, written in swirling feminine cursive, were two sentences.

_Thank you. I miss you. _

The tension left him in a sudden rush and he smiled.

"Miss you too, love," he murmured, then tucked the egg safely away, thumped one large foot against the beige carpet and disappeared down the hole that opened up just beside him. Already he was plotting for next year, thinking about what he could do to ensure that she never stopped believing in him.

Those two eggs were just a minor start to the new game Sophie Bennett and Aster Bunnymund had started. And in the beginning, it was just that – a game. Neither had a clue that as the years passed, it would become so much more.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks to Mikell and Mel for being my faithful reviewers and making very exhausted efforts to help me get a grip on this chapter. Love you guys!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of RotG and make no profit from writing this fic.

**Chapter Two**

**One Sided**

Sophie Bennett sat at the kitchen table in her modest condo, a cup of coffee between her hands to ward off the chill of the evening and the television droning in the background. It was the first of April, Easter was starting to slowly creep up and she'd officially runout of patience with Aster Bunnymund.

Sighing, she sneered in disgust at herself and dropped her forehead into an open palm.

It wasn't his fault she was at her wits end. He was probably clueless as to just how far her feelings had strayed from innocent to something decidedly adult. It wasn't as if he spent a lot of time hanging around her. They had their little game of gift exchanged every Easter, but that was as far as it went. And although the paintings had become much more personal, hinting at a possibility of something much larger, it was still a painted egg on her bed side table with the one leaving it long gone.

And he didn't know.

He didn't know that he was the reason she smiled more, he didn't know that he was the reason she'd turned down that offered cigarette behind the bleachers one night at a football game she had no interest in, or that he was the reason she'd become so immersed in art classes, or the reason she'd stopped dating entirely. He had no idea that the mere thought of him had caused her to walk away from an outdoor keg party and go home on a night when several people had gotten in cars and made the fatal decision to drive. He had no idea that he'd provoked her to go out and get a tattoo of a boomerang across her left shoulder blade on her nineteenth birthday.

He was completely unaware of the fact that she was hopelessly in love with him.

"In love with the Easter Bunny," she muttered, laughing softly. How many grown women could say that? Then again, how many grown women knew who he actually was?

Sighing, she pushed away from the table and slowly moved to the large French doors that overlooked a wooded backyard. There was a thin layer of snow dusting the ground, catching the blue glow of the moon. It would be mostly gone by tomorrow with the warm front that would be moving in, but right now, even in April, it was beautiful.

A line of frost slithered its way over the glass in front of her face and she grinned. Touching a fingertip to the glass, she drew it upward, into a curl that circled inward several times. The frost followed.

Laughing, Sophie pushed the door open and stepped out onto the small patio, shivering as the cold bit into the bare soles of her feet.

"Are you _trying_ to make him mad?"

A male chuckle answered her and she looked up. Jack Frost hung over her roof, his hood up and a smirk on his boyish face.

"Not make him mad. Just…mess with him a bit."

"Right." Wrapping one arm around herself, Sophie took a sip of her coffee. "Hi Jack."

"Hey, Sophie!" He jumped from the roof, landing in front of her. "Wow, you're getting old!"

"Shut up!" She swatted at him and he ducked away, laughing. "I'm not that old."

He leaned lazily against his staff. "Sure. What is it…twenty two now?"

"Twenty three," she corrected. "Okay, if we're going to continue this, it's going to be inside. I'm freezing. Can I get you anything? I've got coffee on."

He made a face and shook his head. "No, that's okay." Stepping into the living room, he looked around while she refreshed her cup, taking in the simple furniture, the painting's spotting the walls, the tower lamps flanking the modest television and entertainment stand and casting their muted glow over the dove gray carpet.

"Nice place," he murmured appreciatively, turning to the curio that took up most of the wall across from the entertainment center. Her grandmother had left it with Sophie when she's passed away. It was mostly glass, framed in cherry wood that had been liberally decorated with intricate Norwegian carvings.

"Quite the collection you've got here."

Sophie looked around the corner of the kitchen wall, heat rising quickly to her cheeks when she saw what Jack was referring to. Carefully placed on the center shelf was every decorated egg she'd received from Aster over the years. She'd been painfully meticulous in removing the insides and rinsing out each one so that she would be able to keep them.

"Oh, that's just-."

"I know what it is, Sophie," Jack cut her off, tilting his head to the side and giving her that annoyingly insightful look that very clearly told her she wasn't getting a thing past him. Out of all the Guardians, Jack was the only one she saw on a regular basis which made it impossible to hide things from him. And all, in large part, thanks to her brother, Jamie.

When she'd gotten old enough to really understand who the guardian's were, Jamie had taken her outside one chilly Autumn morning. She'd been eight years old, standing in the middle of the backyard in her fleece owl pajama's and her winter coat.

_"Jamie…it's freezing. Can we please go back inside?"_

_"Hang on, Soph. I want to show you something. Remember the Guardians?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"And remember how mom's always talking about Jack Frost?"_

_"Jamie…seriously-."_

_"Sophie, turn around-."_

_She had just in time to watch hoarfrost overtake the nearly bare apple tree in their backyard. Layer upon layer crackled over the branches and remaining leaves until it became too much and started falling from the tree in tiny snowflakes. One landed on the tip of her nose and she shook her head as a chill swept over her cheeks. _

_And then she saw him, standing under the tree, his pale hands wrapped around the staff at his side that he was casually leaning into. His blue eyes watched her carefully, a silent plea in their depths. _

"I knew he could paint but I had no idea the bunny was this talented."

His words brought her back and she blinked away the long-ago memory. With a sigh, she went to stand beside him, looking over the collection. Most of them had been painted with memories and she'd caught on early that he was making every effort to keep her from forgetting him. Once she'd been reminded though, there was no danger of it happening again.

Somewhere around the time she'd turned nineteen he'd seemed to understand that and the paintings had changed. Instead of reminding her, they told her that he was there. And the paintings were beautiful, detailed in a way that a watercolor painting would be, lacking the fine lines but still clearly depicting a scene - her favorite flowers from the Warren, the hillside she frequented on the outskirts of town that overlooked a small river winding off to nowhere, the rumored "haunted" lighthouse she'd been dared to go into one evening and couldn't help but love because of the history it held, the swing hidden in the branches of a willow tree out at her grandparent's house that she could spend hours on.

"He's pretty amazing," she said softly.

She could feel Jack's gaze on her and diligently ignored it, instead looking at that very first painting that had restored the hope of a young girl.

"Does he know you think so?"

She turned to him then. "Should he?"

Jack shrugged, then ruffled his frosted hair with one hand. "I'd be the wrong one to ask. I only know half of the rules the Guardian's have to follow and even then…I still break them. But," his gaze turned solemn and he reached up, taking her chin between his ice-cold fingertips, "the way I see it, the only thing wrong about loving someone is not telling them that you do."

His words chased away the frustration and doubt, leaving in its wake a deep relief that she felt clear to her bones. Smiling, she lunged forward, throwing her arms around Jack's neck and hugging him tightly.

"Thanks."

"Any time, Soph."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: And the end! That was quick! Thanks to Mikell and Melody again! You ladies rock! Hopefully I'll get the next story up that spins off of this one. We'll see.

**Chapter Three**

**The End**

He was running out of time. He could feel the shift in the atmosphere as the sun started to rise, sneaking over the horizon to pay her respects to the Man in the Moon before she took over entirely, chasing away the lingering darkness of night.

Setting the last of his eggs for Horner's Park carefully within the branches of a young sapling that was still in its first years, Aster moved back and sighed, scanning the area briefly. Five stops left before he could call it another successful Easter and he would have only a few minutes to stop by Sophie's before she woke up. He'd wanted more time than that but a handful of unforeseen difficulties had pretty much nixed that entire plan. And it irritated him.

A quick thump of his foot, a race through several tunnels and five minutes later, he was at the next stop – the backyard of a children's hospital in Wisconsin. He hunched his shoulders against the cold and listened for any noise that would tell him he wasn't alone. Instead, a touch of cold down his shoulder blades was what alerted him to the fact that he had company.

"Whadaya want, Frostbite?" he muttered, moving forward to complete his job and ignoring the presence of the Winter Guardian behind him.

Jack dropped from the branches of a nearby tree, falling into step behind him with a swagger that annoyed Aster to no end. "Aw, come on. I haven't seen you in a while. Maybe I just stopped to say hi?"

"Hi…right mate," he returned, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Hey, I have a question for you." He took to the sky, floating over Asters head to further irk the Bunny. "What's with you and Sophie?"

He paused for only a moment, his irritation giving way to alarm which confused him. What did he have to hide? They all knew Sophie. So what did it matter if he was paying more attention to her than what may have been considered normal. It was innocent…wasn't it?

"Not sure what you're on about, mate. Now if you'll bugger off, I'm busy here."

Jack chuckled, his feet coming to rest on the ground again a few yards ahead of him. "You're delusional. Does that come with age or is it just an inherent trait?"

In one swift move, Aster had the cocky Winter Guardian up against a tree. "Now listen here, ya bodgy-."

"Maybe you should listen," Jack cut him off mildly, looking far more amused to be in his predicament then scared. He tapped Aster's arm with his staff, sending a painful chill up the Bunny's arm. Jerking away, Aster pulled his arm to his chest and rubbed it.

"We all know about this little gift exchange you've been doing with Sophie. North and Tooth think it's sweet. Me…I see what's going on a bit better than they do."

"And you think I'm the one that's delusional," Aster muttered, trying to ignore the sudden pressure in his chest. He'd been trying to ignore the depth of what was happening as the years went on but watching Sophie grow up, seeing the woman she'd become-.

Her kind soul, her green eyes framed by the layers of spun gold hair – they haunted his dreams, they plagued him throughout the day. He couldn't paint an egg without picturing her sitting at her kitchen table and doing the same thing, dressed in a pair of pink, green and black plaid shorts under a plain white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and only a few buttons holding it closed around her.

"I do. But I get it. She's a human. Bet the idea of her being something more than just a kid who believes in you scares the fur off of ya, doesn't it?"

Aster turned from Jack, intent on doing his work. Anything to get his mind off of something he knew he couldn't pursue.

"Bunny…you know she feels the same way, don't you?"

"Listen, mate…we're goin' nowhere here and I've got a job to get done," Aster snapped, now more agitated with the fact that Jack's words were starting to hit where it count than with the Guardian's presence.

A hand on his arm stilled him. He glared down at it, then up to the owner, startled to see the kindness on the young man's face. That usual gleam in his eyes that would alert anyone to what pranks he had in store was gone.

"How about I get it done for you? Go make something amazing happen and quit ignoring it. If you don't do it soon…you're going to miss your chance."

"Jack-."

"Go." Jack released him, snagging the basket he'd been holding and dangling it on a finger. "I'll call in the reinforcements. We'll get it taken care of. Unless, of course, you want to keep ignoring all of those fuzzy feeling and just keep hoping that they'll go away. Although…being the Guardian of hope…you'd think that would have happened by now if it was supposed to."

Aster sighed softly, shaking his head. He hated to admit that the little pest was right…but he was. Sucking up what pride he had left, he smiled. "Thanks, Snowball."

"Anytime, Kangaroo."

Aster thumped a paw against the frosted ground and down the rabbit hole he went, taking the familiar tunnels to Sophie's place as quickly as he could. He resurfaced where it was considerably darker, the earth not having yet turned enough to allow dawn to disrupt the still of the chilly evening. Her kitchen light was on, the weak glow stretching over the small patio and fading over the frost tipped grass.

He went to the door, knowing that it would be open, and slid in, shivering slightly as the warmth welcomed him. She'd been baking today. He could smell the lingering scent of carrot cake and cream cheese frosting, mingling with the flavored decaf she preferred in the evenings.

He stopped short of the kitchen table, frowning. No painted egg laid waiting for him. Had she given up? No, he could still feel her unwavering faith in him, pulsating through his being.

"Bunny-."

He turned, sucking in a startled breath. She stood there in gray flannel pants and a light green cardigan, her eyes wide and uncertain, her hair pulled back. Several strands hung free, delicately framing her flushed face.

He had nothing to say to her. They'd been talking through paintings for so long now, painting each others worlds with subtle sentiment, that there was really nothing left to say.

He went to her instead, framing her face in his paws, drowning in the sound of her sigh of relief. Her small hands came up, brushing his cheeks, winding around his neck. Her full surrender came when she closed her eyes, leaning into him and his came as he nuzzled her nose, wrapped an arm around her waist and finally kissed her, his mouth moving over hers possessively, taking what he'd longed for and denied himself for far too long.

"We'll make this work," he vowed softly.

She smiled up at him, trusting him, believing in him in a way no child ever had. "Good. Because I love you, Aster. So it has to."

He chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Love you too, Soph."


End file.
